


Favor

by pippen2112



Category: The Phoenix Incident (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Communication, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Leather Kink, Leather Trousers, M/M, lots of blow jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 16:20:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19771939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippen2112/pseuds/pippen2112
Summary: “You alright, man?” Jake asks.“Yeah,” Mitch chokes out, jarred back into action. He steps out of the closet, drops the clothes on the edge of the bed, and turns back to Jake, still holding the trousers. “Found these, though.”Jake holds out a hand, and reluctantly, Mitch hands over the trousers. Jake palms the fabric, running his thumb over the material and grinning distantly. When Jake doesn’t respond, Mitch clears his throat and continues. “You never told me you had sex pants.”Snorting, Jake glances at him through the side of his eye and shakes his head. “Forgot I had them.”“Who forgets they own leather pants?”





	Favor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amaronith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaronith/gifts).



> Like so many of my works, this fic exists entirely due to the lovely people on the Widojord Discord who introduced me to the glory that is The Phoenix Incident. This wouldn't exist without y'all's cheerleading and I am forever grateful! Or without that one shot of Mitch emphatically smelling his leather jacket XD
> 
> To Ama, Happy early birthday! I couldn't fit any wall sex in, but there's lots of biting for you <3<3<3
> 
> Enjoy y'all!

Hauling an armful of clothes out of Jake’s closet, Mitch huffs and bites back a snarky comment about his boyfriend being a pack-rat. He’s helping Jake finish packing the Wednesday before they're set to move into their new place. It’s a big step for them, especially after the rocky start to their relationship, but Mitch likes to think they're stronger for it. He's learning to open up more and let himself be vulnerable, and Jake is working on telling him when something’s bothering him. But after fifteen years of friendship and eight months in a relationship, just the thought of coming home after a long day at the shop to Jake lounging on the couch and falling asleep with Jake in his arms has him bouncing on his heels. It’s unreal, so much so he's had to pinch himself several times a day to remember he's not dreaming.

As he's moving the last of Jake’s clothes out of his closet, he stops short when his fingers graze over a familiar, smooth texture. Leather. _Weird, Jake’s never mentioned owning a leather jacket._ More than once, he’s actually swiped Mitch’s when he’s been cold, something Mitch has teased him for. So if Jake has had a leather jacket all this time, why is it at the back of his closet instead of on his coat rack?

A prickly noise at the back of his mind cautions him, but… what’s helping your friend-turned-boyfriend pack up his bachelor bad without a side of snooping? 

Mitch drapes the pile of clothes over his arm and thumbs through them, looking for this mysterious leather jacket just so he can rub it in his boyfriend’s face. Only it’s not a jacket he finds. Instead, when Mitch flips through and finds the garment in question, it’s a pair of trousers. 

Leather trousers.

Jake owns a pair of leather trousers.

“Mitch? You get lost in there?” Jake calls from the hall. “C’mon, big guy, don’t make me make a trapped in the closet joke.”

Mitch doesn’t respond. He’d love to call back something sassy, but that would require blood in his brain or a drop of moisture in his mouth, and right now, that’s not happening. Only when a shadow falls across the closet door does he manage to drag his jaw up off the ground and spin around to face Jake. He’s only distantly grateful for the pile of clothes hiding over his crotch. 

Brow creased with concern, Jake looks from Mitch to the trousers, and the corner of his mouth quirks into a shadow of a grin. “You alright, man?” Jake asks.

“Yeah,” Mitch chokes out, jarred back into action. He steps out of the closet, drops the clothes on the edge of the bed, and turns back to Jake, still holding the trousers. “Found these, though.”

Jake holds out a hand, and reluctantly, Mitch hands over the trousers. Jake palms the fabric, running his thumb over the material and grinning distantly. When Jake doesn’t respond, Mitch clears his throat and continues. “You never told me you had sex pants.”

Snorting, Jake glances at him through the side of his eye and shakes his head. “Forgot I had them.”

“Who forgets they own leather pants?”

Jake doesn’t answer, something wistful crinkling at the corners of his eyes and turning his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. “I haven’t seen these since college.”

“Oh?” Mitch asks, sidling up behind Jake, holding him by the hips, and pressing a kiss to his neck. “Good times?”

Jake shrugs, but he tilts his head to the side, exposing more of his throat for Mitch to nibble at. “Not really good, but not bad either. I was experimenting, y’know? Trying to figure out where I fit.”

Mitch hums, grinning when Jake shivers in response. Truth be told, he doesn’t know. Not really. He’d known since high school that the way he felt about Jake wasn’t quite how you were supposed to feel about your best friend, but he hadn’t known what to do with those feelings then. Or for most of his life. It’s honestly a miracle he got his head out of his ass at all, but he’s eternally grateful he did. Nothing like an extraterrestrial encounter and a brush with death to reshuffle one’s priorities. 

He kisses down to the crook of Jake’s neck then up to his ear before he whispers, “That’s hot.”

“Eh, you didn’t miss out on much. Just a skinny, shy nineteen year old in baggy pants.”

He pokes at Jake’s sides, quick to stop his boyfriend’s negative self talk ‘cause Jake does enough of that to begin with. Instead, he changes the subject and asks the question burning in his mind, “Ever think about trying them on again? The leather pants?”

Now he hears Jake huff out a quiet laugh before a hand curls through his hair and tugs him back until he looks Jake in the eye. “No, but I could be persuaded.”

Mitch gulps, his cock throbbing in his jeans. Cheeks burning, he cocks an eyebrow and tightens his grip on Jake’s hip. “Oh yeah?”

Jake grins. “Make good on your blowjob promise, and I’ll see if I can squeeze into them for you.”

He frowns. “I blew you in the shower this morning.” Not to mention countless other times in the last eight months when he’s sucked down every inch of Jake he can swallow.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t Best Blowjob Ever material,” Jake says, smirking.

For a split second, Mitch pouts before he hauls Jake up by his ass, sits him at the foot of the bed, and unceremoniously drops to his knees. He gazes up at Jake through his eyelashes, drinks in Jake’s gorgeous blush and lust-blown eyes, and starts working at his belt. “Guess I getter get practicing, huh?”

Jake nods eagerly.

Without another moment of hesitation, Mitch frees Jake’s cock from his jeans and sucks it into his mouth. The smell of musk and sweat sink into his senses, and he groans, pushing himself deeper and deeper until Jake’s cock hits the back of his throat. Above him, Jake gasps and cups a hand around the back of his head, not tugging or guiding, just scratching his scalp and holding him steady. Heat pulses low in his gut, and Mitch bobs his head, working one hand up and down Jake’s dick, the other clinging to Jake’s hip. 

“Fuck, man!” Jake grits out, his voice ragged and thin with lust. “What’s gotten into you?”

Brow furrowed, Mitch slowly strokes Jake as he draws back and frees his mouth. “Do you really want to stop and talk about this now, or do you wanna put a pin in it till later?”

Jake keens, his grip turning firm as he splays his knees wide and pulls Mitch close. “Later,” Jake moans, his hips bucking forward reflexively. “God, don’t stop.”

Biting back a smirk, Mitch dives back in, laving and suckling and stroking all in conjunction. In just minutes, Jake starts making stilted, little thrusts, his eyes squeezed shut and the meat of his palm caught between his teeth to keep himself quiet. _Christ, he looks so good when he’s hanging on for dear life._ Mitch groans loud and sucks hard; above him, Jake jerks hard in his seat, and come fills his mouth, more than he’s expecting but he swallows it just the same and licks Jake clean until the aftershocks have ebbed away. 

Jake collapses back on the mattress, boneless and bleary eyed. Mitch crawls onto the bed and pulls Jake into his arms, kissing his cheeks and holding him close. Jake snuggles up into his side and nuzzles against him, a quiet laugh spilling out of him. “I think you might’ve sucked out some of my soul,” Jake murmurs, his words slurring together. “Shit, dude, where did that enthusiasm come from?”

Mitch doesn’t answer, but his dick throbs, stubbornly waiting for attention. He’s never been so grateful to be wearing clothes because he’s got nothing to explain…any of that. With his free hand, he rubs the back of his neck, frowning. “I don’t know,” he says simply, “but that’s one hell of an incentive you put out there.”

Nodding absently, Jake shifts around so he and Mitch are roughly eye level. Jake gives him a discerning look, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he concentrates. “Is it the leather pants you like, or is it me in the leather pants? I mean—” Jake shuffles a bit closer to him, averting his gaze once more. “—If it’s a kink or something, I’m not gonna freak out on you.”

Unease prickles at the nape of his neck as he considers. He’s always liked the smell of leather, the fit and the feel against his skin, but he’s never cared if his partners came to bed in pajamas or lingerie or just their skin. Still, he holds Jake a little tighter to his chest and kisses the crown of his head, doing his darnedest to disregard his hard-on. “If it’s a kink, you’re the hot piece who’s awakened it in me, Jacob.”

When he pulls back, Jake is smiling shyly against his chest. Mitch grins back, cuddling his boyfriend as he waits for Jake to recover or for his own erection to go down. But after a moment of silence, he whispers, “So… Best Blowjob Ever?”

Jake chuckles, his smile turning wicked. “I dunno, Mitchell. I think you can do better.”

And with that, his dick jerks with a fresh pulse of arousal. He smothers a groan into Jake’s hair and exhales purposefully. Looks like he’s got a long wait ahead of him. Best settle in.

#

By the end of the week, they've moved into their new place. By the end of the next week, they've gotten their things unpacked and christened every room of the apartment with gusto. By the end of the month, Mitch has developed a semi-perpetual sore jaw and a habit of dropping to his knees at odd intervals in hopes of giving Jake so many “Best Blowjobs Ever” that he forgets his own name. Really, a year ago, this level of slutty behavior might have bothered him, but now, well, he gets to turn Jake into a blushing puddle of goo and fall asleep spooned around him every night. If that’s not a damn fine life, he doesn’t know what is.

If only he could put those trousers out of his mind.

Not that he hasn't brought them up now and again since they moved. After they unpacked, he absolutely searched Jake's side of the closet but found hide nor hair of them. When he oh so casually dropped it into conversation while Jake was making dinner that night, Jake just shot him a sly look over his shoulder and said "You’ll see them when I’m ready for you to see them.'" But that evening Jake practically dragged him into their bedroom, kissed him slow and dirty, and rode him for what felt like hours, all the while moaning out sweet nothings and filthy promises until Mitch’s eyes rolled back and he came so hard he probably saw God.

Since then, Mitch has done his best to be patient, but...he’s started dreaming about the trousers. Vivid fantasies of leather-clad thighs clenched tight around his hips, or straddling his chest, or grinding slow and smooth against him. Jake grinning down on him and pinning his hands to the bed and taking _exactly_ what he wants from Mitch. Working him up until he jolts awake, breathless and hard in his pajamas. Yeah, he really needs to see Jake in those pants. Soon.

It's been a long, long week. In addition to a full schedule of repairs, one of the guys at the garage quit on Tuesday, so everyone has been scrambling to pick up the slack. Luckily, he's got Sunday off with Jake, and he's wondering if he can convince Jake to forgo his usual Sunday morning bike ride and just spend a lazy day in bed with him. He's got an argument half-formed when he walks in the door, hangs up his jacket, and drops his keys and wallet on the stand by the door. "I'm home!"

"Dinner's on the table," Jake shouts from the bedroom, his voice a little higher than normal and his tone just…off. "Go ahead, and start without me."

Nodding absently, he heads into the kitchen, finds a fresh plate of spaghetti waiting for him. It's simple, but after the week he’s had, simple is good. He grabs a beer out of the fridge, drops into his usual chair, and tucks in. It's only when he's partway though his plate that he realizes the house is quiet around him. Weirdly quiet.

"Jake?" He gets up and heads to the hall. "You alright?"

"Umm…" Jake hesitates, his voice wavering. "I may have done something dumb."

He leans against the door jamb, grinning. "Dumb? You?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jake mutters. "You can come in, just promise not to laugh."

Promise not to laugh? What the fuck? In lieu of answering, Mitch opens the bedroom door.

And ascends to heaven. That has to be the case, a spontaneous cardiac event or something because there's nothing else to explain the glorious sight before him. First off, Jake is laid out on their bed--their bed, he's never gonna get sick of that--shirtless and blushing all the way down to his chest, so red he looks like he's doing a damn good impression of a strawberry. Second off, he's splay legged on the bed, his feet pressed into the mattress and his hips lifted as he squirms. Third off, and this is what really hits Mitch right where it hurts, third off, Jake is wearing the pants.

Mitch has got to be dead because after the shitty ass week he has had because there's no way this is real. But hey, if he had to die to see this, he thinks it might just be worth it.

The leather trousers are everything he dreamed of. Everything and more. They cling to Jake's thighs and groin, tight enough he doesn't even have fly done up and they're still fixed in place. Even when Jake squirms and tries to pull them down, they barely budge. And Mitch can't do a goddamn thing but stare and wonder if he could squeeze his hand down the back of the trousers and tease Jake’s hole. Or if Jake’s cock will smell like leather when he goes down on him next time. Or… There are too many options, and each of them deserves more brain power than he possesses.

"Wow, really?" Jake says suddenly, jarring Mitch from his thoughts.

By some miracle, Mitch hauls his jaw up off the floor and remembers how to speak. "What, you said not to laugh," he says, stumbling over his words.

"Yeah, but that's just a thing you say," Jake replied, flopping onto his back and scrambling into a seated position. "I still expected at least a little shit from you."

Mitch sidles up to the bed, just barely making it without tripping over his own damn feet. He steps in between Jake's knees and rests a hand on his knee, thumb rolling over the leather. "So what brought this on?"

Flushed, Jake ducks his head. "Knew you wanted to see them in action. Thought I should try them on before you got home just to make sure I didn’t make an absolute fool of myself."

Mitch grins. "Lemme guess. It's been a few more years than you realized."

"More like a few more pounds," Jake mutters. "And now I think they're stuck."

Bracing both hands on the bed, Mitch leans in and kisses Jake. He feels heat radiating off Jakes’ face and drops kiss after kiss on his lips, intent on distracting Jake from hiding when Miich has only ever found him beautiful. “Well, guess we better make the most of the time they have left in this world.”

And without another word, Mitch pulls Jake to the edge of the bed, drops to his knees, and buries his face in Jake’s crotch.

He was lying before. Seeing Jake in those leather trousers is phenomenal, more wondrous than he could ever dream, but this, nestled between Jake’s lean thighs, surrounded on all sides by the scent of skin-warm leather and the gentle musk of the man he loves, _this_ is heaven. He nuzzles forward, feeling the slowly firming length of Jake’s arousal against his cheek. He groans instinctively, licking and sucking at Jake’s dick despite the material separating them. Or maybe because of it. He doesn’t know, but when Jake arches forward, grinding into his face, Mitch stops caring.

“Fuck, you really like leather, don’t you?” Jake gasps, one hand winding in his hair and holding tight.

Mitch smothers a groan against Jake's thigh and gazes up at him. "I like you, Jake," he says firmly, certainly. "The leather is just a bonus."

Jake grins down at him. "I don’t believe any of that bullshit for a second, but fuck, if it gets you this fucking eager to please, I'll buy a fucking leather skin suit."

"Fuck!" Mitch yelps, his hips jerking forward into nothing. "Tell me what you want, Jake."

Keening, Jake grabs him by the hair, tugging Mitch right where he wants him, so close and yet so achingly far. But with nothing more to go on, Mitch groans low in his throat and digs in, redoubling his efforts and grabbing Jake by his ass. Biting his thighs through the thick trousers. Hooking one leg over his shoulder and licking up the hot bulge of Jake’s cock. Fuck, he tastes so good. Smells so good. Feels so good under him Mitch can hardly think.

With a sharp whine, Jake collapses back on the bed. "Mitch!"

He tears himself away from Jake's groin with a groan. "Tell me what you need, babe."

"Need you in me," Jake says, already scrambling for his waistband. "Need you in me yesterday."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He and Jake reach for the trousers, shoving at the waistline. Unfortunately, the pants were snug to begin with, and getting them down around the swell of Jake's ass and the bulge of his cock is slow-going at best.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jake pants, pushing helplessly at the material. "Can't believe I thought I could still squeeze into these."

"C'mon babe, you've got an ass that just won't quit," Mitch says, palming his cheeks and squeezing. "You don't run 5 miles a day without getting one hell of a booty."

"It’ll mean more once you can actually do something to said booty," Jake replies."Fuck it, just yank them down."

Mitch frowns. "Jake? You sure?" He splays a reverent hand around Jake's hips, stroking along the leather and gazing up at him.“Don’t wanna hurt you.”

Laughing quietly, Jake reaches up and cups Mitch’s cheek before smacking it lightly. "The pants are a lost cause. Just get ‘em far enough down so you can fuck me."

Mitch gulps hard, his cock throbbing in his pants. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Hands quick and sure, he takes Jake by the hips and flips him onto his hands and knees, spurred on by Jake’s surprised yelp. He grabs both the waistband in both hands, and after three hard pulls, the pants slip past the swell of his ass, baring Jake to him. Mitch palms both cheeks, digging in his fingertips and pressing biting kisses into the flesh. He trails inward, leaving a trail of bites along Jake’s skin, heading for his hole, when Jake grabs him by the hair and pulls him back. He meets Jake’s gaze over his shoulder, drinking in his bright flush and lust-dark eyes. “Cock, ass, _now._ ”

“Fuck, you’re hot when you’re bossy.” Nevertheless, Mitch rolls to the bedside, throws off his t-shirt, and grabs the lube off the nightstand.

In the blink of an eye, he’s three fingers deep in Jake, twisting, scissoring, and even skimming across his prostate every few thrusts. “Shit, did you fuck yourself before I got home?” Jake asks as he leaves a line of love bites up Jake’s spine.

“Spent… the afternoon… plugged,” Jake gasps out between moans. “Thought it… best to be ready.”

Want pounds through his veins, and his cock dribbles in his jeans. With one last thrust, he spreads his fingers wide and slowly pulls them out. He wipes them on his jeans and pulls back far enough to squirm out of his ever-tightening jeans and quickly slicks his cock. As he shuffles back into position, Mitch drapes himself across Jake’s back, nibbling at the nape of his neck and drinking in Jake’s quiet groans and the needy roll of his hips. “Fuck, you’re too good to me.”

Jake cranes his neck as far as he can and catches Mitch’s lips in a biting kiss. “Then you better make it up to me, big guy.”

Mitch bites Jake’s shoulder to quiet his keen and with a careful thrust catches on Jake’s rim and pushes in. And Jake moans and clenches around him, a vise of heat. Eyes squeezed shut, Mitch braces one arm on the mattress, the other hand slipping beneath the waist of the leather pants and wrapping tight around Jake’s dick. 

Coiled tight like a spring ready to snap, Mitch holds Jake close and strokes him in time with each thrust. Surrounds him on all sides, panting against his neck and groaning out quiet praise and every dirty promise he can think of. Jake cries out, bucking back onto his cock and forward into his fist, driving Mitch higher and higher with each needy sound. 

“Fuck, Jake,” he whimpers against Jake’s skin. “You feel so damn good. Like you were made for me.” He angles his next thrust, and Jake howls in bliss, dropping onto his elbows and taking Mitch with him. He’s not gonna last, but fuck if he’s not taking Jake with him. He drives into Jake over and over again, relishing every reflexive clench, every bitten-off whine. 

“Mitch,” Jake calls over his shoulder, his voice wrecked and his hands fisted in the bedding.

Slowing to a grind, Mitch nibbles at Jake’s ear, whispering, “Tell me what you want, babe.”

Jake shivers and presses his face into the bedding. “Make me fuckin’ come.”

As if he could ever say no to Jake. Groaning low in his chest, Mitch fucks into him in short, driving thrusts, aiming for his prostate as he fists Jake’s cock, twisting on each upstroke. Beneath him, Jake shrieks, hips bucking as he cinches tight around Mitch’s cock, and clings to the bed, and spills in Mitch’s palm. Mitch collapses under that delicious squeeze, his eyes rolling back as he comes.

Twitching through his release, Mitch carefully pulls out and flops onto his side, laying one hand on Jake’s hip and stroking idly as they both recover. Takes in the rosy bites littering Jake’s back with a satisfied grin. After a few minutes, Jake grumbles and scoots close enough to cuddle into Mitch’s chest. “How’re the pants?” he asks.

Mitch glances down at the mess of come staining the leather and the torn seams at the waistband. “In need of wash and repair.”

Jake huffs out an exhausted laugh, wriggling until he can kick the pants off the side of the bed. As he moves, Mitch snags his t-shirt off the floor and wipes them both clean before tossing it toward the hamper. They should probably shower before bed, but the lazy, post-sex endorphin high is still heavy on them, and he can’t be bothered to break it yet. He pulls Jake close and holds him tight. “Thank you.”

Snorting, Jake presses a kiss to his chest. “Don’t thank me just yet, Adams. Now I get to call in a kinky favor whenever I want.”

He grins. “Bring it, Reynolds. I’m not scared.” _Not around you._

Rolling his eye, Jake snuggles into his chest. “We’ll see.”

Even as desire rears again in his chest, Mitch shakes his head and presses a kiss to Jake’s hair. He’ll stress about whatever favor Jake wants from him later. For now, he has a great big bed, the man he loves tucked against his side, and no plans for the next twenty-four hours. For now, he lets himself rest. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Questions, comments, and concrit welcome!


End file.
